


Inevitability

by Silvandar



Series: Multi Fandom Drabbles and One-shots [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Otabek Altin, Canon Compliant, Condoms, Consensual, Developing Relationship, Enthusiastic Consent, Falling In Love, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Growing Confidence, Hair Brushing, Hair Kink, Hung otabek altin, Long Hair, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Otabek Altin Has a Big Dick, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Promises, Prostate Stimulation, Protective Russian team, Sex Is Fun, Sex is messy, Smut, Tall Yuri Plisetsky, Tenderness, Top Yuri Plisetsky, Yuri Plisetsky's Nickname Is Yurio, growing relationship, otayuri - Freeform, power bottom otabek altin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16613249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvandar/pseuds/Silvandar
Summary: Otabek Altin has tried not to think of his best friend in a romantic context for as long as possible, but finding out that 18 year old Yurio Plisetsky has a huge crush on him throws all the rules out the window...Shameless First Time smut and fluff, because I needed it in my life and I needed a break from NaNoWriMo.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/159839156@N03/45108610105/in/dateposted-public/)  
>    
> [Source for Yurio image](https://www.instagram.com/a_luminus/)

Since his first Grand Prix Final, they had developed a tradition. After the banquet, when the rest of the skaters turned the shared floor of their hotel into pop party central, Otabek and Yurio would disappear to Otabek's room for their own, private, heavy metal dance party.

Otabek's room was the obvious choice, because Yurio always had to share with someone from the Russian team, usually Georgi, and Otabek was always alone. Plus, he brought along decent speakers, since he refused to be parted from good quality music even at competitions. They would order room service, stocking up on sugary, non alcoholic drinks and carbohydrate based junk food, then Otabek would line up a few hours worth of music on his laptop.

Ploughing through food and drink that was completely forbidden during lead up to competition, they would collapse for a while listening to music and talking only if they felt like it. Eventually, Yurio would usually recover from the binge first and start dancing, dragging Otabek to join him once the older skater had digested properly.

When they slipped away from the group after Yurio's first GPF win, Otabek had found himself on the receiving end of some very angry, very _pointed_ questioning from Yakov about his activities and intentions with the blonde. The Russian was only 15, and Otabek was generally assumed to be some kind of predator. It had taken over an hour of answering very awkward questions to reassure Yurio's coach that his intentions were friendship and nothing more.

Yurio had also been quizzed as to their activities in Otabek's room that night, and his irritated confusion when asked subtle questions had gone a long way towards proving Otabek's innocence. Eventually, after Four Continents and Worlds when Yurio insisted on repeating their private party routine, Yakov accepted that Otabek was safe, although he made it very clear that he was keeping an eye on things.

Otabek's feelings on about Yurio were clear and uncomplicated. For years, he'd simply wanted to _know_ him, this savage child who had reminded him so much of his own struggles. Meeting him again at Barcelona had turned that on his head; the first time he'd laid eyes on him in the lobby, he'd been struck dumb by his beauty. Still determined to get to know him, he'd nevertheless been mindful of Yurio's age.

A brief bike ride and conversation had convinced him that while the blonde was a mature competitor, he was completely _immature_ when it came to relationships, or sex. Immature, and uninterested. Getting his fledgling urges firmly in check, Otabek built a wall inside himself, shutting off his desires for the blonde with great difficulty. He committed to being Yurio's friend, and from that point on he refused to even consider him in any other way.

 

Around age 17, Yurio slammed into physical maturity and everything changed for the Russian. He put on nearly six inches in height in under two years, and it cost him badly. Alongside the pain of physical change and the need to modify his training routine and choreography to incorporate new muscle growth and size, it threw off his centre of balance, damaged his flexibility and made managing his nutrition and weight a nightmare.

Refusing to let the changes to his body dictate his career, he insisted on competing and clawed a string of fourth places and two bronze medals out of the season. Heartbroken and furious, he turned to his only real friend as a source of comfort. Long phone calls that varied between screaming fury and desolate sobbing became the norm for a few months, while the blonde prepared for the next season. That was the first year Otabek made playlists specifically for the post competition cool down party, throwing together specifically chosen music that would help the blonde dance away his grief from each loss.

For Otabek, the changes in his friend were a double edged sword. It brought them closer together, the Kazakh having experienced his own physical maturity while skating in competition and able to offer advice and empathy that Yurio wouldn't tolerate from anyone else; it also poked large holes in the self restraint Otabek had been carefully maintaining over the last three years. Yurio had matured from a delicately pretty boy to a breathtakingly attractive man, and seeing him for the first time confused Otabek completely.

Although he'd been on the end of the phone and on messenger and knew what to expect, coming face to face with the blonde at NHK in November that year was like a physical blow. The only reason he'd recognised Yurio at _all_ was the animal print hoodie he was wearing; he towered over the Kazakh at 5'9'', all defined shoulders and long legs, and a hint of stubble from the long flight.

When he threw his arms around Otabek in their usual greeting, the height difference made both of them feel intensely awkward until Otabek tugged his head down to eye level with a laugh that broke the tension. That movement did something else too; the Kazakh's heart turned over and it took everything he had not to turn that tug into a kiss. It would have been so easy... and something in the blonde's expression hinted that it would have been welcomed.

Thankfully they were in the lobby of the hotel, but the blossoming awareness of his friend as an adult threw Otabek through a loop. Reminding himself firmly that Yurio was still only 17, still a child no matter how he looked, the older skater began the lonely process of building up those boundaries once again.

Their post competition dance party was strangely charged, but luckily for the Kazakh, Yurio's inexperience with romance made his unconscious flirting easy to read and very easy for Otabek to navigate around without actually rejecting him. Nevertheless, they came away from the GPF with a very different dynamic in their relationship.

Naturally, the other skaters also noted Yurio's growth spurt, and some more very pointed questions began heading in Otabek's direction. By now, it had long been accepted that their close relationship would eventually become something more than friendship, at least amongst their competitors and peers. So it wasn't entirely unexpected when, towards the beginning of the following season, Yurio's rinkmates and team members began dropping some deeply unsubtle hints to the Kazakh.

Viktor made it very clear that Otabek was on a very tight leash now Yurio was eighteen. Yakov made the same message even clearer, with emphasis on the terrible consequences if the Kazakh had a negative impact on Yurio's mental focus. Even anxious, quiet, kind Yuuri Katsuki dropped him a message after the assignments for the Grand Prix were released, indicating that should Yurio's heart be in any way damaged by the older skater, his head would roll. A little staggered and hurt by all the animosity, he reached out to his only real confidant in these matters.

Christophe Giacometti was the undisputed oracle of all things 'skater romance' related. Three years retired and now a choreographer, he was also something of a role model for Otabek, who wanted to follow a similar career path, with the addition of composing as well. They had bonded after Giacometti had revealed his career choices, and eventually their relationship had become personal enough for him to question the brunette about his love life.

When Yurio had made his appearance at the last Grand Prix and everyone had seen the physical changes in him, Otabek had received a single message from Christophe saying “Oh dear... you may have competition” and a gif of some of the younger skaters of every gender watching from the stands, clearly besotted with the sight of the Russian.

Now, under a deluge of angry messages and intense phone calls, Otabek turned to the older man for help.

“Why are you surprised by all this? I mean, you knew when his birthday was, right? I'm only amazed he wasn't on a plane to Almaty the day he hit 18!”

“That's not funny, Chris. _We're just friends._ ”

“Hmm. Well, my guess is he doesn't see it that way.”

“ _Why would you say that?_ We've never even discussed... well, anything!”

Christophe laughed for almost five minutes, and Otabek nearly hung up on him in disgust.

“Oh Beka... you don't really thing all that anger appeared in isolation do you? According to Viktor, he's been obsessing over you for at least a year. Full on crush, apparently the only reason the team haven't teased him about it is because he's, well, he's still Yurio only now he's big enough to actually damage people when he gets angry.”

Otabek didn't know what to make of that. “Oh...”

“Oh indeed. So what are your plans for the next Grand Prix?"

“Mmm. Bye Chris. Thanks for the advice.”

“I didn't say anyth...”

Hanging up on the Swiss, Otabek sat in silence for a very long time, before looking down at his hands and realising they were shaking.

“Oh.”

 

The Grand Prix Final saw Otabek snag Bronze by some miracle, and Yurio pick up his first Gold since he'd made the painful jump into physical adulthood. The expression on his face in his podium photographs was a strangely peaceful mixture of satisfaction and relief.

Once the medal ceremony, photographs and exhibition skate were out the way, Otabek began to panic. Assuming they stuck to tradition, once the banquet was over he'd be alone with the blonde, in his hotel room, for the rest of the evening. He'd made several alternatives on playlists, one of which was edging towards romantic heavy metal and had been buried in the depths of his Spotify list in shame. Based purely on the theory that he would be a terrible idiot and a bad friend if he didn't make some preparations, in the bottom of his suitcase were some essentials if things ended up getting x rated.

Seeing Yurio at the banquet didn't help Otabek's mental state. Viktor had obviously been involved in picking his outfit, and the black suit and shirt combo hung on his tall, slender frame as if he'd just stepped off a catwalk. He'd been growing his hair out for the last few years, and it hung down his back in a thick braid well past his shoulders. Otabek saw his gesture to join the Russian group, but the thousand degree stare from Viktor, Mila and Georgi made him flee in the other direction, seeking the protection of Christophe who was relaxing near the bar.

“I think they're going to skin me” he whimpered, sitting down and grabbing a glass of water from a nearby pitcher. Christophe laughed and nodded.

“Viktor helped with the suit. Apparently he wanted something special, and got really flustered when Viktor asked who he was dressing up for.”

Watching Otabek's attempt to disappear into the table, Christophe poked him gently. “Don't avoid him, he's already looking heartbroken. Well, furious, but I can tell the difference.”

Shocked, Otabek risked a look and winced. Yurio did indeed look furious – he was sat at the Russian's table alone, glaring at his wine glass as if it had personally wronged him.

“Fuck. He doesn't know how much shit I've been getting, does he?”

“Almost certainly not. He thinks you're ignoring _him,_ not being terrorised by his rink mates.”

“Dammit.”

Christophe gave him a playful shove in the direction of the blonde, and moved to intercept Viktor, who was watching the Kazakh like a hawk.

 

Slipping into the seat next to his friend, Otabek was hit with the full force of his glare as Yurio looked up at the intruder. Realising who it was, his expression changed to something approaching a smile, although he looked a little wary. Deciding that honesty was the best policy, and also afraid of where a lie might end up, Otabek indicated the collection of Russian coaches and skaters who were monitoring them out of the corner of their eyes.

“Sorry about that. I'm under 24 hour watch at the moment. Your team mates seem to think I'm a threat to national security.”

“W-what?” Yurio stared at him, then looked over at the Russian team, who immediately pretended to be interested in their drinks.

“Nice suit” Otabek added, aiming for casual and missing just slightly. Yurio blinked and then ran his hands over his stomach, smoothing the fabric and making Otabek's mouth go very dry.

“Viktor. How does anyone know that many tailors?”

“Nghh” Otabek managed, then cleared his throat. “Ah... I picked up some new tracks for later. If you want to hang out. After this, I mean. I mean, only if you w-want to...” stuttering to a halt, he realised with disgust that he was blushing. Grateful for the ability of his skin tone to hide most embarrassed reactions, he stared at his own glass and waited to see if Yurio had noticed his inability to verbalise properly.

A long silence made him look up, and to his astonishment he found Yurio also staring at his glass. His pale skin had no such protective capabilities, and there was a high flush on his cheekbones. It made him look almost criminally beautiful, and Otabek had to look away, convinced he might spontaneously catch on fire if he stared too long.

“S-sure... If you want... I mean, sure. It's our tradition, right?”

“R-right. Tradition.”

There was no doubt in either of their minds that this year, that tradition was likely to undergo some serious changes. The tension between them was almost painful, and Otabek suddenly decided he'd had enough of it. Being excited and nervous about new things was fine, but this awkwardness with his best friend was unacceptable. Taking a deep breath, he poked Yurio's glass with a finger, making the wine slosh.

“Do me a favour?”

“Mmm?”

“No more of that, OK?”

Yurio stared up at him, his eyes bemused. Shrugging, Otabek pushed his own glass aside. “I don't want to be drunk later” he said, leaning back in his chair with a tiny smile, “and I'd rather you weren't, either.”

Gaping at the Kazakh, Yurio tried to speak and found his vocal chords had stopped working. Nodding towards his team, Otabek raised an eyebrow. “They already think we're going to be up to no good later, probably best they don't think I got you drunk first.”

The tone and words were unapologetically flirtatious, and the blonde shook his head. “H-how did you know... I mean... fuck...” Shaking his head in humiliation, he looked a lot like he wanted to run away, and Otabek pressed their knees together under the table.

“You're not the only one who's been waiting” he murmured softly, and watched the flush take over Yurio's face completely for a moment, then recede as his lips curled in a relieved smile.

“Thank fuck for that” he breathed, pushing his wine glass away and closing his eyes, pushing back against Otabek's knee with a sigh.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut~

They escaped shortly after ten, using the start of the dancing to avoid being caught by any of the Russians on their way out. Only Yakov saw them go, giving them a very curt nod of acknowledgement. Feeling like he'd just been given some twisted version of royal approval, Otabek exhaled loudly from sheer stress as they fled the building and headed back to the skaters hotel. The journey to his room seemed to take at least a year and moments at the same time.

“Right” he said decisively as he pushed open the door. “Food and music. Yes?”

“Y-yes. Definitely.” Yurio kicked his formal shoes off with a wince, and Otabek noticed the leopard print socks.

“Of course” he laughed, pointing, and Yurio shrugged.

“I'm still me, even if I'm a thousand feet tall now.”

“You're only 5'9''” Otabek said, shaking his head. “A whole three inches taller than me, big deal.”

Grunting, Yurio rested his elbow on the Kazakh's head casually. “Yeah, no big deal.”

Pushing him off with a grin, Otabek threw the room service menu at him and turned to his laptop, digging out an uncomplicated playlist to start them off. As AC/DC filled with room, he sat on the edge of the bed and shoved off his dress shoes with a groan. “It's your turn to pick the food” he pointed out, and the blonde grunted and sat down next to him. Glad that Yurio had fallen into their normal routine, he tucked one leg under his thigh and sneaked a long look at the blonde as he glared at the menu.

Yurio had abandoned his suit jacket at the door and his shirt had become untucked almost the second he'd escaped the banquet. The tie was also gone, somewhere in the jacket pockets, and his top three buttons were open. The slight glimpse of pale skin was enough to make Otabek's throat go dry again, and he quickly shifted his gaze to the two feet of blonde hair hanging down Yurio's back.

“I'm thinking nachos.”

“You always want nachos.”

“It's true. I do. So we're having nachos, right?”

“Mmm.” Otabek poked the phone, glad to give his hands a distraction. Despite himself, they'd been trying to creep towards the braid, his memory tormenting him with all the times in these same circumstances he'd brushed out the banquet styling from that hair.

As if prompted by his friend's memories, Yurio stood up and grabbed Otabek's key card. “I'll go shower and grab my stuff. Two minutes.”

Otabek choked slightly, and then nodded. Usually, Yurio would stay the night after the banquet, since they tended to dance until they were worn out, then curl up on the bed and watch a movie until they fell asleep. In his panic over the Russian team's reaction to him, it had completely slipped his mind that the blonde still probably intended to sleep next to him. Saying a silent prayer for self control, he threw himself in the shower and turned the water as cold as he could stand, bringing some calm back to his mind and body with difficulty.

Food arrived at the same time as Yurio returned to the room, and provided a much needed distraction for both of them. The blonde had avoided letting his hair get wet by piling the braid on top of his head, and the unexpected reveal of the length and thickness of his neck and shoulders did truly complicated things to Otabek's libido.

They ate in silence that was only slightly tense, listening to the music and occasionally talking about the competition and the other skaters. The announcement of Yuuri Katsuki's retirement had come as a surprise to nobody, but his decision to move back to Japan with Viktor, with the intention of opening their own coaching centre in Tokyo had been big news for everyone apart from the Russian team. Even Otabek hadn't known, and Yurio apologised for having to keep him in the dark.

Pushing his empty plate away, Yurio sighed in satisfaction and lay back on the bed, stretching out and resting his head on his arm. Suddenly nervous again, Otabek found himself sitting awkwardly on his pillows, one knee up like a barrier between them as he pretended to be busy on the laptop.

“You said you found new tunes?”

“Mmm. They're still really rough...”

“You made them?” the blonde perked up, always willing to listen to Otabek's music.

Shrugging, Otabek switched to his hard drive and pulled up the tracks, queueing them up and then hunching back on himself. Artistic nerves mingled with the general tension in the air to render him mostly non verbal as Yurio listened to the music with growing enthusiasm.

Once the blonde had finished giving his seal of approval, he leaned over to look at the playlist options and Otabek managed to restrain a whimper at the unexpected physical contact. Apparently unaware of his influence on the brunette, Yurio scrolled the lists for almost five minutes, while Otabek tried not to squirm underneath his arm. Eventually settling on chilled metal, the blonde jumped off the bed and grabbed his night case from his bag, then sat cross legged with his back to Otabek and yanked his hair out of the impromptu pile from the shower, tossing his hairbrush to the Kazakh.

“Get this lot under control, will you?”

Otabek pulled the bands out of Yurio's hair, trying not to let his hands shake. The false bravado in the blonde's voice was unmistakable, and the older skater could hear his own heart hammering in his ears. He'd brushed the blonde's hair dozens of times, but this time was definitely different. This was physical First Contact, and all the rules were about to be broken. Realising his thought process was both completely ridiculous and completely out of his control at this point, he teased the braid apart with his fingers and tried to ignore Yurio's sigh of pleasure at having his hair set free.

 

Fully untangled, the bottom of Yurio's hair actually brushed the bedsheets and Otabek had to lift it as he brushed away the waves from the braid. Yurio slumped slightly as he did it, making it even more difficult, and Otabek poked him gently in the ribs.

“Sit up straight, or I'll have to stand up to do this. When did you last get it cut anyway?”

Sitting bolt upright, Yurio shrugged. “I get it trimmed every few months. It just makes it grow faster though.” After a few more minutes of brushing, he began to slump again and Otabek sighed, kneeling up behind him and drawing the mass of hair from around his shoulders. As his hands ghosted over Yurio's neck, the blonde shivered slightly and Otabek realised that the offer of the brush had been about far more than just hair. Inexperienced and nervous, the Russian had handed control over to the older skater and left it up to him to move things forward.

Setting the brush on the bedside table, Otabek shifted his position and let his knees press against the base of Yurio's spine. Easing his fingers into thick blonde hair just above his ears, he slowly ran his fingertips over the Russian's scalp, down the back of his neck and over his shoulders. The resulting murmur from the younger man was barely audible, but being this close to him, Otabek could _feel_ the hitch in his breathing. Smiling slightly, he slipped his hands out of Yurio's hair, then went back to his starting position over his ears and did it again.

By the fourth or fifth slow stroke, Yurio was actively whimpering in bliss and Otabek's self control was sorely compromised. Trailing his fingers over the long, pale expanse of the Russian's neck, Otabek moved so he could press his nose against the side of Yurio's head, removing any last traces of doubt about where this intimate touch was going. The blonde leaned back against him, reaching behind him and gripping the outside of his thighs, and the Kazakh heard a murmur slip from his own lips.

Drifting his fingertips over the front of Yurio's throat, he murmured again as the blonde let him tip his chin back, resting his head against Otabek's shoulder. The blonde's eyes were closed, his jaw relaxed. A flush was high on his cheeks again, and touched his lips with a faint pink glow. As Otabek let his hands wander over the soft fabric of his shirt, he felt strong fingers dig into his thighs as Yurio responded to the gentle exploration.

The intense and erotic slow touches were glorious, and Otabek felt no great urge to shift gear, but he knew he was viewing this from a far more experienced perspective. He could feel the tension in the blonde's arms and hands, and knew he was nervous and still unsure of the direction of travel for this evening. Mentally promising himself to teach Yurio the joys of massage and teasing at a later date, Otabek took one last look at his blissed out expression and then leaned back just enough to rest their cheeks together. He gave the blonde a moment to process the shift in position before he turned his head and let their lips brush against each other.

As he felt the touch, Yurio's eyes opened slightly and he almost purred in delight, turning his head to return the motion. The blonde's reaction was everything Otabek had fantasied about, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning into the kiss. Feeling Yurio's lips tense in a smile, he ran his hands back up into his hair and cradled his head as he took full possession of his best friend's mouth.

Within minutes, Yurio had wriggled upright and was kneeling in front of him, his fingers wrapping around Otabek's jaw as he dominated the kiss. So much tension after too many years of longing had shattered the very small amount of self restraint Yurio possessed.

The kiss was a lusty mess at first, with Yurio's inexperience and Otabek's nerves causing clashes of teeth and general disorder. Sensing the hunger in the blonde, the older skater stopped fighting for control and after a few minutes they began to synchronise, the kiss deepening as Otabek teased Yurio's lips apart with his tongue. Hearing the resulting moan from the blonde, he uncoiled his legs and tugged, pulling both of them down onto the pillows and letting Yurio kneel between his thighs, taking his weight on his forearms either side of Otabek's head.

Slipping his toes behind Yurio's calves, he sank his hands into his hair and pulled it out of the way, pushing it over his shoulder and letting his lips pull back from the kiss. Before the blonde had a chance to get the wrong idea he ran soft kisses over his jaw and down onto his throat, producing a much louder moan. Yurio obviously had a very sensitive neck, and he decided to take immediate and full advantage of that.

Working slowly, he pressed firmer kisses all the way down the muscles from Yurio's ear to his collarbone, and then back up the front of his throat, ending at his jaw again and then capturing his lips. By the time he sank his tongue back into his mouth, the blonde was panting and his fingers were hooked into Otabek's hair like claws.

Wanting to give the blonde time to breathe, Otabek pushed his head back and broke the kiss, taking the opportunity to get some control back over his hair again. He wasn't prepared for Yurio to open his eyes and look down at him, and the sight of his blown pupils and beautiful green irises up close made him freeze, staring back at him in wonder.

“F-fucking hell, Beka...”

Aware that he was flushed and rock hard against Yurio's thighs, the older skater smirked and brushed their lips together. “Told you I'd been waiting too.”

Sitting upright for a moment, Yurio grabbed a hair band from the side table, forcing his locks into a messy bun before snuggling back down and pressing their noses together. Unable to take the heat in his gaze, Otabek averted his eyes and concentrated on moving his hands over the thick muscles of Yurio's shoulders and chest, marvelling at the strength he could feel in his torso. When the blonde slipped a finger beneath his chin and pulled him back into another breathless kiss, he moaned helplessly and let his hands move to the open collar of Yurio's shirt.

Stripping the fabric away from the blonde's upper body, Otabek pushed them up into a sitting position, bending his knees for balance and whimpering as their aching arousals pressed against each other. Yurio obviously wasn't prepared for direct stimulation either, and he pressed his face against Otabek's shoulder as he moaned. Taking pity on the younger skater, the Kazakh eased his own shirt off his shoulders and lay back on the bed, happy to give Yurio a moment to recover.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moar smut~

Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Yurio let his eyes and hands drift over Otabek's torso as he knelt over him. Murmuring at the feel of taught, athletes muscles and the heat of his skin, he leaned down and ran his tongue over the older skaters collarbone, following the centre of his chest. Muttering a soft oath, Otabek tugged him back up into a kiss, and Yurio grinned at his new discovery.

Copying the Kazakh's earlier actions, he let his lips trail over his throat and down, this time searching out the soft peaks of Otabek's nipples. Loving the noises he was producing in his friend, Yurio teased with fingers and tongue slowly, then let his kisses move lower. Grazing his teeth over tight abdominal muscles, he eased his fingers into the waist of Otabek's pants and then paused.

“Can I?”

Lost in the sensations Yurio had been licking into his body, it took Otabek a moment to gather his wits enough to understand what he was asking. Shaking his head, he bent his knee and pushed, rolling Yurio onto his back and pinning him down. Yurio was clearly learning by example, and that was a clear invitation for Otabek to get his hands on the blonde.

“You first.”

Wriggling free of his suit pants left Yurio flushed and nervous again, and Otabek drew him into a firm kiss as he ran his hands over his body, murmuring in appreciation of every inch of muscle and sinew under his fingertips. Easing his own pants off, Otabek lay beside his young lover and let his left hand sink into his hair as he pushed the right over his stomach and down, coasting over the plane of his pelvis until he felt fabric under his fingers.

“I want to touch you, Yura... let me?”

“F-fuck... you d-don't need to ask...”

Kissing his nose softly, Otabek shook his head. “Yes I do. Every time.”

Green eyes opened and Yurio murmured in lust mangled, barely understandable Russian, nodding his head. “P-please... yes... yes...”

His eyes slid closed again and he cried out softly as Otabek's hand moved further down, wrapping his fingers around the aching length between his thighs.

Trying to focus on the blonde's needs, the older skater pressed his lips to the pale skin of his chest and licked a wet line from his collar to his nipple, working the peak with the very tip of his tongue as he explored. The moans coming from Yurio were shattered and breathy, and Otabek knew he wouldn't last very long under such intense stimulation. He trusted in the stamina of the athlete under his hands, and decided that bringing him to climax early and often was the best way to go for their first night together.

They both moaned aloud as Yurio's hand ran over Otabek's hip and he returned the touch. As his fingers drifted over the Kazakh's length, his eyes slammed open and he half sat up, staring down at him in astonishment.

“Fucking hell Beks...”

“Sorry...”

“Don't be sorry... fuck, I don't even know what to do with all this...”

Laughing softly, Otabek gently pulled Yurio's hand away from the heavy length inside his boxers and kissed him. “You don't have to _do_ anything. L-let me drive tonight, OK?”

“Mmm... ahhh!” the slightly disgruntled tone was interrupted by Otabek's hand sliding under fabric to take a proper grip on the blonde, and Yurio's hips bucked into his hand despite himself. Whimpering softly at the touch, he wriggled, wanting to be free of his underwear. Grinning, Otabek moved his position and hooked his fingers into the waistband of Yurio's boxers, dragging them away when the blonde nodded.

Unable to prevent it, Otabek licked his lips as he ran his eyes over the blonde, pushing his knees apart gently and kneeling between his thighs. Already painfully hard, Yurio was wonderfully thick and long, with a dusting of pale hair at the root and pale pink flesh darkening at the tip. Fighting back the urge to just swallow him whole, but aware that too much voyeurism would probably freak out his lover, he forced himself to stop staring and began trailing his lips up Yurio's inside thigh, hooking the knee over his shoulder as he kissed and licked the hard, tight skaters muscles.

Reaching the apex of his thighs and reminding himself not to tease too much, he spread his fingers gently over Yurio's length and guided the head of his arousal between his lips, growling happily at the taste. Hands caught in his hair and Yurio groaned, the sound muffled and indistinct. Looking up, he saw the blonde had covered his mouth, moaning into the flesh of his arm as he tried to control his volume. Taking a deep breath, Otabek made a silent promise to give him plenty to moan about.

Working his mouth slowly up and down Yurio's shaft, he put his weight on the blonde's hip while keeping his other leg over his shoulder. The position gave him free use of his left hand, which he immediately abused by cupping the soft, sensitive flesh between his legs. Muffled moans shifted speed as he drifted his fingers around and under the sac, hollowing his cheeks as he rubbed a slow circle just behind his lover's balls.

For long minutes, the room echoed to Yurio's muffled, rapid moans and curses as Otabek sucked him. One hand was resting in the Kazakh's hair, shaking with the effort of not tensing or pulling, and the other was clenched in a fist as the blonde gasped against his forearm. Aching from his own arousal, Otabek resisted the urge to touch himself and instead kept his focus on Yurio's pleasure. He was almost certain he was the first person to do this for him, and was determined to make it good.

His warning came when Yurio's moans changed to a harsher, more breathy cry and his hips began to buck hard, muscles twitching and pulsing. Nothing could drag Otabek away from what he was doing and he ignored Yurio's desperate moan, tightening his lips and rubbing his tongue deep into the slit of his throbbing cock. He tasted salt a moment before Yurio arched off the bed, both hands clenching into the sheets and horse curses and cries ripping from his throat. The taste and sound of him made Otabek's own body twitch, and it was with immense self control that he kept his hands away from himself, his physical need almost painful by now.

As the blonde fell back on the bed, Otabek swallowed and eased up his body, flicking his tongue over the flushed skin of his chest to taste sweat. His throat burned a little and he wanted water, but not before he got a good look at the blonde post-climax. The sight seared its way into his brain and he groaned softly, pressing his hips against Yurio's thigh despite himself.

Limp and temporarily stunned, his chest heaving and his limbs twitching, Yurio's eyes were closed and his lips parted as he gasped for breath, coming down slowly. As his awareness returned to the world outside his own body, his eyes flickered open and he gazed at the older skater. His hand trembled as he cupped Otabek's jaw and brought him down for a kiss, moaning softly at the taste of himself in his lover's mouth.

Feeling Otabek pressed against his thigh, Yurio ran his hands down his body and captured his length again, rubbing his thumb gently over the leaking head with a purr. Watching Otabek's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the touch, he leaned up with an impish grin and kissed him again, pushing him onto his back.

“That was f-fucking amazing Beks... I want to make you f-feel that good...”

“Y-you are...”

Glancing down, Yurio firmed his grip and twisted his wrist, letting his strokes lengthen on Otabek's arousal. The Kazakh was intimidating in size, much bigger than his height would have suggested. As much as Yurio wanted to make him feel good, the thought of trying to fit _that_ in his mouth was a bit terrifying.

“This isn't good enough... you deserve more.”

Otabek opened his eyes and pulled Yurio into a deep kiss, cupping his fingers as he worked the older skater's flesh, encouraging him to touch him confidently. Just feeling the blonde's hands on him was more than he'd dared hope for, and his moans were sprinkled with Kazakh; soft curses and words of desire and longing.

It didn't take long before he had to stop helping, his climax racing towards him as he wrapped his arms around the blonde instead, arching up against him and panting into his shoulder. Purring as he felt ropes of thick fluids smear their stomachs, Yurio pressed kisses against Otabek's throat as he came, loving the sounds the blonde was pulling out of him.

Collapsing back onto the bed, chest heaving, Otabek watched through bleary eyes as Yurio ran his fingers curiously across his abs and tasted, his pink tongue flicking out and his expression smug. Groaning, the older skater filed that image away for later mental use as well before grabbing at the tissues on the night table. Distracting Yurio with soft kisses as he cleaned them both up, he felt the blonde twitching and hardening again under the light touches and smiled.

“So... what do you want to do now?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemon~

Yurio stared at his lover for a long moment before a flush crept over his face and he ducked his head. “I didn't even expect this much... I... I don't know...”

“Mmm. How about we relax for a while? I mean, we're not in a rush are we?”

“Y-yeah... that sounds good...” Yurio looked suddenly very vulnerable, aware that he was naked and no longer so turned on he didn't care. Otabek smiled and kissed his nose, then stood up and lifted the duvet. The blonde wriggled under it immediately, looking relieved as Otabek slid in next to him and propped his laptop up on Yurio's side of the bed so he could lie behind the younger skater.

“Action or horror?”

“Y-you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure... I mean, if we get distracted later that's fine, or we can just sleep for a bit.” Kissing Yurio's shoulder, he brushed his hair aside and looked down lovingly into his eyes. “Tonight's just the start... you're not getting rid of me, Plisetsky.”

The response from the blonde was a tiny whimper of emotion and a fierce kiss that left them both breathless.

 

In the end, they lasted less than an hour of an old _Mission:Impossible_ movie before they were distracted by the closeness and warmth of each other. It started innocently enough; Yurio was tucked into Otabek's body and had his lover's arm wrapped around him, the Kazakh leaning on his other arm to watch the film over Yurio's head. As he felt Yurio's hips start to gently thrust back against him, Otabek smirked into his hair and let his fingers trace slow, lazy circles over his chest, teasingly close to his nipples but avoiding contact until he heard the blonde whimper.

Switching his movements, he ran a nail softly over the bud of a nipple, tracing the line of Yurio's shoulder with his tongue and nipping at the flesh between gentle kisses and licks. The blonde tolerated about three minutes of teasing before he moaned aloud, and Otabek tilted his head back into a deep kiss. Turning the blonde fully into his arms, he lay back and let Yurio sit astride his hips, growling happily as the younger skater drifted his hands down to his already thickening length.

Yurio's first groan alerted the brunette to the full extent of his ambition, and he pulled out of the kiss to watch the blonde working them both, one hand on his own arousal as he stoked Otabek. Despite the almost uncomfortable levels of friction from his earlier sensitivity, the sight was almost too much and Otabek scrunched his eyes shut for a moment, a louder growl escaping his throat.

“Yura... oh f-fuck...”

“Mmm... I wanted to do this for so long...”

“W-wait... s-stop a moment...”

Concerned, the blonde stopped and Otabek wriggled out from underneath him. Kissing him gently, he murmured “stay there a second... I've got supplies” and then darted across the room to his suitcase.

Easing back into the bed and tugging Yurio down into a kiss, he pressed the newly opened packet of lube into the blonde's hands with a smirk. Eyeing the other packet that the Kazakh had tried to casually conceal on the side table, Yurio grinned.

“Lube _and_ condoms? No wonder Viktor wanted to kill you before...”

“Shut up” Otabek said, blushing to the roots of his hair. “Better to have and not need, than need and not have.”

“Ancient Chinese proverb?”

“Quote from Alien V's Predator.”

Laughing, Yurio shoved Otabek gently onto his back and kissed him, slicking his fingers with lube and returning to stroking them both. The sensation was instantly a thousand times better, and they both moaned into the kiss. Dipping his hand between Yurio's thighs, Otabek took over the motion on the blonde's length, gripping his jaw with his other hand and feathering kisses over his lips and throat.

“Ahhh... fuck... w-what were you planning to d-do with the c-condoms” Yurio panted, burying his head into Otabek's neck.

“N-nothing... it was just in c-case...”

“In case of what... what do you _want_ to do with t-them?”

Gasping, Otabek arched against the blonde's hand, stunned that Yurio was already confident enough to tease and flirt while they were touching each other. Reflecting that the blonde was a staggeringly fast learner, he bit his lip and murmured into the younger skater's ear.

“I... I want you... want to...”

“Ahh... _h-how_?”

“W-want you to... to f-fuck me...” as he said the words Otabek's lust soared and he cried out, spilling over into Yurio's hand helplessly. The blonde was only moments behind him, the sight of Otabek dissolving into pleasure far too much for him to take. Collapsing against his lover's chest, the blonde gasped through his own orgasm as their bodies shook and quivered.

 

“I... I don't know what to do...”

“You don't have to...  I'm not expecting anything,  Yura"

“I want to...” Yurio shook his head, tilting Otabek's chin up from where his lover was drying himself off with a towel. Tissues had proven ineffective against the mixture of lube and bodily fluids, and they'd migrated to the en suite to wash up. “I want to! Fuck... I've been thinking about it for m-months... but I just...”

Otabek kissed him firmly, pushing him back against the sink and running his hands down the broad length of his back. Unable to resist the opportunity, he glanced at the sight of them in the mirror and groaned aloud, blood racing south at the reflected view of Yurio's body wrapped around his own and the expression of bliss on the blonde's face as they kissed. Pulling him reluctantly out of the bathroom and back to the bed, he pushed him onto his back and settled astride his hips.

“Let me drive” he said again, and Yurio nodded, running his hands over his thighs.

“I want to do everything with you... I imagined so much... but fuck, Beks, you're _huge._ I don't even think I _could..._ ”

Shaking his head, Otabek leaned down and kissed him, pulling Yurio's arms around him. “Don't worry... don't worry about that right now... I want you i-in me...” he growled, slicking his fingers and easing his hand between his own thighs.

Preparing himself took a while, since he hadn't been sexually active beyond slim vibrators for over a year. Yearning after the blonde, he'd turned down dozens of offers from men and women, sticking with self satisfaction and fantasy over a real human who wasn't Yurio. Keeping the younger skater distracted and purring, he stroked him slowly with slick fingers and buried his tongue in his mouth, occasionally moaning as his fingers brushed against sensitive areas deep inside him. Enthusiastic and lusting, Yurio pleasured him in return, teasing his lover to aching hardness, murmuring against his lips as they worked each other's bodies.

When he was stretched, Otabek wiped his hands clean and grabbed a condom from the side table, looking down at the blonde. “We really don't have to do this t-tonight” he said, and Yurio leaned up to kiss him, taking the condom out of his hands. Ripping open the packet, he sheathed himself and lay back, entwining their fingers together as he pulled Otabek on top of his hips.

“I know we don't... but I want to... and y-you do too" he purred, and the older skater nodded, returning the kiss as he shifted Yurio's length into position beneath him.

They both let out an explosive breath as the head of Yurio's cock eased through the tight ring of muscle and pressed deep into Otabek's body. Hanging his head for a moment, the brunette growled softly at the pleasure of being entered. Cursing softly, eyes tightly closed, he lowered himself slowly down the length of the blonde, trying to stay aware of his lover's responses despite the heat and lust racing through him.

As the older skater hilted Yurio inside him, he heard the blonde groan something in a mangled dialect and drew him into a kiss, forcing them both to still for a moment. Breathing hard, the blonde was shaking and mewling as Otabek's body tightened around him, his beautiful green eyes nearly rolled back in his head at his first experience of this pleasure. Waiting for the quivering in their limbs to slow, Otabek leaned his weight on Yurio's chest and slowly began to move.

Cursing in Russian and Kazakh quickly filled the room as Otabek rode the blonde, biting his lip as Yurio gripped his weeping arousal and matched his motion with lube-slicked fingers. Arching his hips up into each thrust, the younger skater sank his other hand into the sheets and whined at the insanely tight heat around him. They moved like that for long minutes, until Otabek was comfortable enough to shift the angle and ease Yurio's length where he needed him to go.

Pressing his hands either side of Yurio's head, he braced his weight and began a slow circle with his hips, occasionally shifting to a front-to-back motion when Yurio's breathing became too ragged. Each twitch of his hips drove the blonde's buried cock against his prostate, and he cried out in bliss at every touch. The sounds he was making on top of the pressure around him drove Yurio wild; burying his face in his neck, the blonde muffled his cries and forced himself to hold on and concentrate on stroking the Kazakh's rock hard arousal, desperately wanting Otabek to climax first.

The additional stimulation from the blonde's fingers and the pressure against his sweet spot quickly sent Otabek soaring up into orgasm and his hips snapped forward, hilting the blonde again as his body throbbed and pulsed around him. A string of oaths slipped from the Russian as his lover's body drew him into his climax, and he wrapped himself around the older skater as they came together. Collapsing back onto the pillows, Otabek breathed Yurio's name against his throat, murmuring words of adoration as they subsided and curled up in each others arms. Showering could wait until morning, for now they simply wanted to fall asleep clinging to each other.

 

When Yurio reluctantly left the next day to meet up with his team and head to the airport, he did so with Otabek's slim gold chain around his neck; a wordless promise of the future they would build together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world needs more Power Bottom!Otabek, and that's the truth.


End file.
